


what's your wingspan?

by tonystarktrash



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Torture, Iron Man 1, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Not So Platonic Cuddling, Protective Pepper Potts, Sharing a Bed, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric, there's only one bed... well... there are many beds but... today there is only one...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 07:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19883914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystarktrash/pseuds/tonystarktrash
Summary: Here goes. “I want you to come over here, get into bed with me, and hold me as tight as you possibly can.” Tony’s hand moves over his mouth, mostly to muffle the sharp inhalation that he takes –I can’t believe I just said that.wherein pepper potts spends the night at 10880 malibu point shortly after tony's return from afghanistan.





	what's your wingspan?

Maria Stark stands over his shoulder, watching his fingers as they dance along the ivory keys of the grand piano he had inherited from her after her death. 

“Slower, Anthony, slower,” his mother chides him, her voice an echo in his ear – being the dutiful son that he is, he forces himself to relax and slow down, and his eyes drift slowly shut. He’s exhausted, there’s a heaviness in his bones that would have dragged his fingers to a complete stop were he not so determined to finish the song. Each breath is labored, he’s not quite used to the decreased lung capacity that came with having an arc reactor installed in his chest – but it’s better than an electromagnet hooked up to a car battery. 

“Sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice speaks up, Tony had told him to be quiet hours ago – and the AI had obeyed – no doubt running diagnostic after diagnostic scan on his creator. “You have been awake for over 96 hours. I really do insist that you -.”

“Can it, J,” Tony’s voice rasps, his left hand spasming against the keys, producing a discordant shriek that makes him screw his eyes closed. “God damn it!” His fists slam against the keys before he gets to his feet unevenly. Tony looks over his shoulder hopefully, but Maria Stark is long gone.

His Malibu mansion is not the palace he had dreamed of as he had struggled to sleep each night on the thin blanket that his captors insisted was a mattress. No, his home is more of a mausoleum – or maybe a shrine. The only place he felt like he belonged was the workshop down below, but J.A.R.V.I.S. had locked him out of it three hours ago. _A danger to myself. What does he know_?

Tony slowly walks over to the glass window that looks out over the cliff face and the ocean below. Prior to his captivity, he had loved the beach – moving to California had required no thought at all after the death of his parents. Malibu was everything that New York City wasn’t: relaxed, easy going, gorgeous. At least it was, until recently. Now he doesn’t know where he belongs – but he knows that he won’t step foot on a beach again, not willingly.

He pulls his cellphone out of his pocket, pushing the screen up to expose the keys. Rhodey was in D.C., and had only been able to talk to him for a few minutes before he had been called away by some jumped up moron in an Air Force uniform. That had made Tony jealous, which was ridiculous, he knew – but why was everyone leaving him alone here? Why did everyone suddenly think that just because he was back home, he was himself again? _That’s not fair._ Tony shakes his head, wishing that wheedling voice had a physical form he could beat senseless. Everyone was leaving him alone because he had told them to, shortly after the press conference, he had gathered his own little group to him and instructed them that they must proceed as business as usual. Pepper had bitten her lip and looked at him uncertainly, Rhodey had shook his head, and Obadiah had clapped him on the back with a chuckle.

Tony squints down at the screen, the names swimming as he slowly clicks through his contact list. He realizes that he could have just speed dialed Pepper as he clicks through P after P – but, aha, there she is.

Tony raises the phone to his ear, brushing aside a curl of dark hair – he really ought to get a haircut, maybe that would make him feel better. But… His free hand reaches up to press against a pressure bruise on his neck, a leftover from tonight’s excursions. He didn’t exactly have a dressing room to hide in as each component of his prototype suit was screwed on steadily to his body – and it was too much of a tight fit, anyways, he had hardly been able to breathe. _Back to the old drawing board._

“Tony?” Pepper’s voice is slow, sleepy, but she had answered on the first ring. Tony sucks in air between his teeth, his hand moving from his neck to rest against the glass. _So, this is what Pepper sounds like first thing after waking up._ There’s a kind of sexy deepness to her voice, Tony commits that to memory, his thumb stroking along the cool glass idly. “Are you okay?”

The deepness slips away to her usual tone, he can hear sheets rustling as she sits up in bed, a click as she turns on her bedside lamp. He wonders what she’s wearing – _nothing_? – no, that would be too perfect.

“What’s your wingspan, Potts?”

“My – my…?”

“Wingspan, you know, the length of your arms?”

“I don’t – my wingspan?”

“What are you, like, 5’10?”

“Tony.” _Ahhh, there it is. I’ve pissed her off, and it’s two in the morning. What a lovely way to start the day._

“How many pounds of pressure per square inch do you think you could exert, if you really, really tried?” 

“ **Tony**.” 

“How much do you weigh -?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Pepper snaps, “This is a new low, Tony.”

“Wait.” His voice wavers, and Tony’s hand curls into a fist against the glass. _God **damn** it. _“Wait. Don’t hang up – please.”

Pepper pauses, her breathing slow and steady against the receiver, and there’s more rustling as she lies back against the mattress. 

_Here goes._ “I want you to come over here, get into bed with me, and hold me as tight as you possibly can.” Tony’s hand moves over his mouth, mostly to muffle the sharp inhalation that he takes – _I can’t believe I just said that._

“Okay.” 

“Wha – really?” Tony says between parted fingers, fingertips brushing along the ragged edge of his goatee. _I need to take care of that, too._

There’s silence, and Tony pulls the phone away from his ear to check that Pepper hadn’t hung up on him – he would understand if she had, she had shocked herself with her answer as much as it had shocked him.

“You sound tired, Tony.” Pepper sighs, a breathy sound that makes Tony shift on his feet. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No, I’m not. I tried calling Rhodey, believe me Potts, I know that this isn’t in your job description. But he was out of town, and yes,” Tony heads her off before she can ask, “Rhodey would have said yes. Happy, not so much. And I’m sure as hell not calling Obie – so that leaves you. I don’t have anyone else but you.”

There’s more rustling, Tony strains to make out more sounds, footsteps?

“I’ll be over in twenty, okay?”

“Okay.” Tony’s hand drops away from his face, rubbing at the reactor in his chest that smarts with pain. “You know you don’t have to do this, right, Pepper?” 

“I know, Tony.” She hangs up.

Slowly, he shifts around so that his back rests against the glass. The phone is lowered from his ear, which burns a bright red – he’s blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. “Get a hold of yourself, Stark,” Tony mumbles as he starts to pace around the living room. “No funny business.”

_Would I really make a move?_ He gnaws at his lower lip, setting his cell phone down on the lid of the grand. _Nah, I wouldn’t._

Tony catches sight of himself in the reflection of the window, and pauses in his pacing. _I’m filthy – holy shit, is that what I look like right now?_ Usually, he wouldn’t care much about his personal hygiene, but if Pepper Potts is to get into bed with him tonight… 

He plans on taking the world’s fastest shower, detaching the showerhead to avoid getting his chest wet. Tony can’t bear to stand under a steady stream of water, either – he has to grit his teeth and think of the suit as his hair plasters against his skull. One droplet of water trickles down his cheek and he whimpers, arm tensing as he prepares to throw the showerhead through the glass door of the shower. He can feel the water coursing down his throat, filling his lungs – the showerhead strikes his foot and he groans, resting his forehead against the cool tile of the wall.

_You’re not there. You’re home. Just a shower, you idiot._

“Miss Potts has arrived,” J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him, “Shall I tell her that you’re indisposed?”

“Tell her I’ll be out in a second,” Tony hates how wrecked his voice sounds, hates the tears that burn in his eyes – hates himself for getting so worked up over a **_shower_** _, for God’s sake._

There’s a lump swelling on the top of his foot from where the showerhead had struck it, and he gingerly steps out onto the bathmat, grimacing at the bright streak of pain that travels up his leg. He wraps a thick towel around his waist, quickly brushing his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t brought himself a change of clothes. 

Pepper’s green eyes widen in surprise when he steps out of the bathroom, her cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink. “I’m sorry,” her hand raises to shield her eyes, as if the towel slung around his hips doesn’t exist. “J didn’t say you were – showering -.”

Tony inspects her silently. She’s wearing a matching set of blue plaid pajamas, knowing that Tony keeps his house cold. A small overnight bag is slung over her shoulder, no doubt containing tomorrow’s outfit – his fingers twitch against his thigh, doing his best to ignore the thoughts that wonder what color her underwear are, what the material is… Her hair is done up in an orderly looking ponytail, which is a shame, Tony would kill to feel her soft copper hair fanned out against his skin.

“What, Potts, you’ve never seen a naked man before? I’m not even naked, I’m wearing a towel.”

She peers out between her fingers, though her gaze is focused on his chest – on his reactor, to be more precise. Tony’s jaw sets, insisting that he sees revulsion in her eyes. 

“I know, it’s not pretty. I’m gonna throw some clothes on. My intentions were always pure, inviting you over.” Not necessarily the truth, he acknowledges as he walks over to his bedroom, stopping at the set of drawers to the right of the doorway. Pepper follows after him, her eyes wandering down the muscular expanse of his back, watching as muscle and bone shift gracefully while he rifles through his drawer. A trickle of water moves down the column of his spine, and she wants to chase after it with her tongue – Pepper’s cheeks flush pink again, savagely biting the largest chunk of her cheek she can manage to get hold of between her teeth. At least Tony has his back to her.

“Potts,” Tony looks over his shoulder at her, frowning. “A little privacy? I’m actually about to be naked, so unless you want to be scarred for life, or whatever.” He twirls his finger, as if she’s unable to hear him. “Would you?” 

Pepper blushes again, turning around to face the wall, hearing the towel as it hits the floor. Just one glance wouldn’t hurt, right? Her head tilts to the side, hearing the rasp of fabric being pulled over damp skin as Tony gets dressed. No, he had asked her not to look, so she won’t. That’s different, too – Pepper had spent the last week observing and cataloging these little differences about Tony since his return from Afghanistan. Tony had never been one to shy away from a woman looking at him naked, even if that woman happened to be Pepper Potts – though she had never gotten a proper look before, nothing more than the quickest flash of tan skin. The major difference, of course, is the glowing piece of metal in his chest – that, and the emptiness in his eyes. Pepper had fallen in love with bits and pieces of Tony Stark over the years that she’d worked for him, and his warm brown eyes had been her first love. But now he looks at her, and he doesn’t see her – he sees untold horrors. Perhaps he’ll tell her of them tonight, but she won’t push him.

“Tada,” Tony says dryly, his hand resting on her shoulder, a warm weight that makes her jump. “I’m all set.” His hand falls away, his voice sounding uncertain. “This is stupid,” Tony says quickly as she turns around to face him. “I shouldn’t have called you, I’m sorry.” He tenses as her hands reach out for his face, her fingertips brushing over the dark purple bags under his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Pepper says softly, he can feel her breath faintly against his skin. His eyes dart down to her lips, she’s close enough that he could kiss her. “You haven’t been sleeping.” Her hands drop away from his face, instead grabbing his damp bicep, steering him towards his own bed.

“House is too big,” Tony tells her, allowing her to push him towards the bed, which he had lain in for hours before giving it up as a lost cause. Her hand moves from his arm to his back, between his shoulder blades – he can feel her palm through the thin fabric of the tank top he had thrown on. She gives him a gentle push, and he falls forward onto soft sheets with an ‘oomph’. 

“It is pretty big,” Pepper replies, placing her overnight bag down on the floor before climbing into bed with him. One well manicured fingernail presses against his side, digging in to get his attention. “Move over, please. You’re taking up all the space.”

“Sorry,” Tony’s voice is muffled by the sheets, and he rolls onto his back and inches away from her. His head rests on the pillow, his hands clasped together and resting on his stomach. Tony turns his head, looking over at her. “Weirded out yet?”

“A little,” Pepper replies, reaching up to pull her hair out of its ponytail. Inwardly, Tony cheers wildly. “But this is probably the best bed money can buy, so I’m looking forward to a decent night’s sleep.”

“No promises there,” Tony tells her honestly, tightening his grip on his hands, her hair looks so incredibly soft. “I’m not the most peaceful sleeper.” 

“Well…” Pepper chews on her bottom lip for a moment, an endearing habit that Tony longs to break by pressing his lips to hers, soothing her lip free of her teeth and…

“Well.” Tony echoes, forcing himself to stare up at the ceiling. “Whenever you’re ready, Potts.”

“Whenever I’m – I’m ready?” Pepper laughs a little nervously. “I guess I’m just not sure – how you want to be… held?”

“Simple.” He rolls over closer to her, watching as she cringes away for a moment, still chewing at her lip. “Here.” He takes her hand in his for a moment, dragging her arm around his back. “So, the best way – and this is not a come on, Potts, I do the same with Rhodey. He doesn’t have – well –“ Tony’s gaze travels down to her chest and he grins, wincing as Pepper’s hand smacks him on the back. “Deserved. But I just sort of… Climb on top of you, rest my head on your chest, and you squeeze. I’ll be out like a light.”

Pepper’s teeth let go of her bottom lip, though they leave an indentation behind. Tony wonders how that would feel against his tongue. “Alright. Just don’t…”

“Feel you up?” Tony grins as he shifts on top of her, his arms wrapping around her waist. “Scout’s honor.” He lowers his head against her chest, hearing her heartbeat thrum wildly against his ear – he reasons it’s just due to his proximity, just due to being slowly crushed by another human being into the mattress. Not because she has feelings for him, or anything ridiculous like that – no, he’s the idiot with the feelings for her. Pepper Potts is far too sensible to fall for his particularly disgusting brand of narcissism. “Is this okay?”

“It’s fine.” Pepper’s voice has that breathy quality again, and Tony absolutely cannot afford to get an erection right now – he instructs himself very firmly to behave. It doesn’t help that she seems to fit perfectly against him, it also doesn’t help that she’s relaxed and supple beneath him – if she was tense, he could view this as an inconvenience, and inconveniences definitely aren’t sexy. “You’re very warm.”

“I run hot,” he tells her, sighing as her arms wrap around him and squeeze. “Perfect, just like that. Damn, Potts, are you a professional arm wrestler? You’ve got more strength than I pegged you for.” 

She pinches his skin between her fingers, and Tony breathes in deeply – her form of punishment, unfortunately for Pepper, Tony finds particularly arousing. “I get a lot of exercise, carrying Stark Industries on my back.”

“Lights, J.” They are cast in a sudden darkness, and her heartbeat races faster against his ear. “Too dark?”

“No, it’s fine, I just…” Her fingertips brush over the half-moons her nails had left behind, the gesture apologetic. “Your chest.”

“My chest – the reactor? Is it bothering you?” Tony can only see the faintest of blue light radiating from where his chest is pressed against her upper abdomen. “I can’t turn it off, but I can put on a darker shirt…”

“No, it’s not that…” She squeezes him tighter, and Tony’s eyebrows raise. “I wanted to see it. I think that it’s…”

“Disgusting?” Tony asks sardonically.

“Beautiful.” He can feel the heat of her blush through the fabric of her pajamas. “I can’t believe you made that in a cave, Tony – it’s just… What happened, over there?”

Tony closes his eyes against the memories, the water filling his lung, the arms of strangers elbow deep in his bloody chest, the agony that had consumed him. “Nothing good. It would give you nightmares.”

Her slender fingers brush through the curls at the nape of his neck, up to the center of his skull, and then back down. He shudders involuntarily at the scrape of her nails against his scalp – this had not been part of the agreement, but he is not going to argue.

“I wish I could help you, Tony.”

He hums against her, “You are helping me, Pep. I promise.”

Her fingers still in his hair, and then pull away – he could weep at the loss of her touch. But then she’s holding him close, squeezing him as he had asked her to, and he falls asleep after a few moments of listening to her heartbeat and feeling her chest rise and fall steadily beneath him.

* * *

He wakes to an empty bed. Tony lifts his head, looking hopefully over at the bathroom, but the light is off. He reaches out, hand dangling off the bed, searching for the overnight bag she had brought. He grasps at empty air. His heart feels heavy, had he dreamed the entire thing? Ignoring the flash of pain in his chest, he pulls himself up to the head of the bed and presses his face against the pillow. He’s met with the strong scent of Pepper Potts’ perfume, a heady mix of floral and vanilla that makes his toes curl against the sheets.

They never mention it to each other, and he never asks her to stay over again – but he remembers the night fondly. It’s the best sleep he’s had in years.


End file.
